


a swingset with two swings

by moreworldliness



Category: DreamSMP (Minecraft Series)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotionally Repressed, Gen, Karl Jacobs-centric, Lost Memories, Repressed Memories, Siblings AU | Dream and Karl are Siblings, Tales From The SMP Episode 5: The Masquerade, The InBetween - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29202834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moreworldliness/pseuds/moreworldliness
Summary: "Why are there two swings?""You already know the answer to that question."or:karl tries to unwind in the inbetween and ends up in pain instead :3
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Karl | Karl Jacobs
Kudos: 78





	a swingset with two swings

**Author's Note:**

> GOD THIS WAS SO GOOD  
> I couldn't NOT write something for it. Karl really knocked it out of the park with this one.  
> Also yes, this is an au where Dream and Karl are technically immortal siblings - shush.

It had become a game; staring into oblivion, at the white towers and arches peppered with torches as their only light, at the sky that seemed close enough to touch yet barely skimmed the fingers that wanted to trace the stars.

It had become a game to ask that oblivion questions, to ask thoughts that lingered for a moment on Karl’s mind.

Who knew how many times he’d been answered, how many times he’d asked, how many times he’d received silence as a finger to his lips, snuffing out the curiosity that led words to his throat. If anyone knew, it’d be the castle itself, scratched designs into the quartz and marble that heard every hesitant syllable. It never gave a reply, and it held those secrets within its walls forever, however long that may be.

Wind whipped in Karl’s ears as he opened his eyes to the marveling white that drained the fear from his bones, though the taste of metal still burned his mouth. Another world, another group of friends, another murder, another failure - another visit to the only place where violence had been removed. His muscles ached with the fatigue of confusion and the fatigue of remembering, the sound of a book shutting echoing somewhere from the courtyard. The silence still unnerved him, to some degree, but it drained the energy from his head too fast for him to register the uneasiness.

His footsteps echoed mournfully through the polished halls, all colour stripping slowly from his clothes as he continued walking, losing the panic from the last world. This was the Inbetween. He’d learned to recognize it, after a while of jumping at the stark interior and the faint piano music that came from no-where in particular. There was no warmth here, but no cold either; no pain but no respite - a place of nothing and everything, where his mind drowned in exhaustion he couldn’t place.

Silver branches of a birch tree hummed his name as he approached the small swing set in the middle of an atrium. Chains groaned quietly as the wood moved, Karl’s legs too long to properly hover above the ground. It was more a glorified seat than anything.

Karl shut his eyes.

“How old am I?”

The distant piano paused and returned, a voice echoing in its soliloquy.

“ _ Far older than you know. _ ”

Karl reached up and placed his hands on either side of the chains, slowly pulling his legs up to allow him to swing a little. It wasn’t much, but the faint rocking motion allowed questions to come to his mind freely.

“Was I old when I first came here?”

“ _ No. You were young. It took you a long time to figure out how to get out. _ ”

“I have control over that?”

“ _ To some degree. _ ”

He tried to imagine a younger him; a quiet him? A loud him? Carefree, or full of worry? Colourful, or as colourless as this place? He couldn’t pin any one idea down. They all seemed correct, though unlike everything else in the multiverse, only one of them was. There was only one Karl. There was only one him. There was only one try.

“How old is this place?”

“ _ I don’t know. _ ”

The swing’s gentle creaking suddenly bore into his mind, as overbearing as a gunshot, tears springing to his eyes as he glanced over at the empty swing beside him. If he looked too fast, there was colour in that seat, two young hands against the chains beside him, laughing in the white shirt he wore, and the white mask over it.

“... Why are there two swings?”

“ _ You know the answer to that question. _ ”

And he did, if faintly.

And he did, the memory lost to the gaps in his memory from every period traveled. 

And he did, but it was gone.

Two adults were there, too, in the mirage that sat next to him, blurred and faded through his mind's eye and the tears that ran down his face. His heart ached, watching the taller of the pair reach down and pat the young masked boy on the head. He wanted to reach out and touch them, wanted his name spoken, wanted the comforting hands of people that resided somewhere out of mind. 

He watched the shorter of the two look over at him, and approach.

Karl shut his eyes, grabbing at his chest, his knuckles going white as he gripped at the spiraling fabric that kept him warm.

“That’s enough! Please.”

The Inbetween listened.

Then, it was just him.


End file.
